


good vibez only

by greenbucket



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M, New Year's Eve, Online Dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenbucket/pseuds/greenbucket
Summary: Perhaps it’s not in like, the festive spirit or whatever, but Dex refuses to feel shame in reactivating and skimming through his array of dating apps the second his flight gets delayed.
Relationships: Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter
Comments: 15
Kudos: 188





	good vibez only

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ellienchanted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellienchanted/gifts).



> For ellienchanted! Hope you like it, thank you so much for helping figure their profiles out they're genius, and happy new decade!!
> 
> Inspired by [this tweet.](https://twitter.com/taylor_stag/status/1067199832408739847?lang=en)

Perhaps it’s not in like, the festive spirit or whatever, but Dex refuses to feel shame in reactivating and skimming through his array of dating apps the second his flight back to New York gets delayed. What else is he going to do? Read a book? Talk to the people around him? Not likely.

And like, he’s just maybe been feeling slightly more desperately alone than usual, after the holiday period spent with family. His parents were his parents and even his shithead brother had been lovey-dovey with his admittedly very nice girlfriend, not to even mention the bloodbath that was social media.

It’s only midday on New Year’s Eve, but Dex can sense in his old-man bones that it’s already ramping back up again after a few days of quiet after Christmas. Picturesque, loving content as far as a guy can scroll, most likely.

Not that Dex is bitter. He has friends, has love in his life and shit. He’s on his way home to show his face at Ford's party, after all. Except the plan is to prove he didn’t die en route, get smashed as efficiently as possible, then probably get kissed platonically by six people at midnight because his friends are like that, before ultimately heading home alone and passing out alone.

Dex is, in short, just acutely fucking aware of his singleness right now.

In the heart sense and in the dick sense, unfortunately. Whatever. He’s got a few boring hours stretching ahead of him; even if he doesn’t match with or message any of the many dudes he can swipe through, at least a good twenty percent of them are hot enough to pause for a whole second.

One guy, after some fifteen minutes of mindless, semi-horny swiping, warrants more time than that.

He has a tattoo. It wraps around his very nice bicep and Dex’s mouth goes dry. His name is Derek, and he has a couple shirtless pics, a hockey one, a few ones Dex figures are trying to convey culture – museums and art and like, sweeping landscapes – and ends it with a meme.

Which is like. It’s kind of funny, and this dude is super hot, but really? But also he is so, so hot. In like, a _hot_ way, and in a beautiful way, so Dex can at least entertain the idea of their boning. Then Dex reads Derek’s bio:

  
‘ _what i want is what i’ve always wanted. what i want is to be changed.’_  
_im pretty and my meat is huge. good vibez only, no haters_ _✌️_

Dex doesn’t smile a little. He doesn’t. He definitely just rolls his eyes hard and swipes left. That quote. He doesn’t have the patience, not even for someone that looks like that.

“Ouch,” says a voice from over his shoulder. “Hard no for that one?”

Because of course, because his flight is delayed and the drive to the airport had been shit anyway, because of _course_ – it’s the dude. He’s not just nearby, he’s literally right there. Derek. Sitting in the row of seats backed up against Dex’s, twisted round to watch over Dex’s shoulder in a flagrant disregard of like, normal fucking behaviour, and somehow even hotter in the gross airport lighting. He’s doing some kind of smirk thing that Dex isn’t into at all.

His voice is like– It’s nice. Dude has a nice voice.

And of course, instinctively, result of being a grumpy fuck since birth and years in the big city, Dex’s immediate response is, “Fuck off, asshole.” Then, back up instinct, result of his mom’s loving care and years in a small town, he adds, “Shit, sorry, that was- I didn’t mean- um.”

Derek’s smirk solidifies. Something natural rather than an expression he’s holding there, not that Dex would’ve recognised it wasn’t completely assured and legit until then. “No worries, man. It’s chill. Sexy pic with the lobster, though.”

-

Nursey absolutely, completely, fucking two thousand percent should _not_ have said anything. He’d almost be surprised at himself, watching this whole thing happen out of body, except this is the least surprising behaviour from him ever. Like he’s ever been able to let a minor hurt pass without poking at it until it’s something unbearable and he has to nope out like that’d been his plan all along.

Whatever. It’s chill. He’s got this. They’re in an airport, so Nursey can nope out whenever he likes, and more effectively than usual. It’s going to be fun.

“Excuse me?” says Will.

Will, who Nursey had first noticed for his massive ears and exhausted vibes, then absently clocked as attractive, and then clocked some minutes later as the same dude whose profile he’d just come across. Will who Nursey had _just_ swiped right on, though not before screencapping his profile and sending it to Chowder, captioned ‘ _a straight???_ ’

Like. Okay. Nursey doesn’t want to stereotype, or whatever, tries really hard not to, but when a dude sees a bio like _I'm Will. I like hockey and lobster-fishing and good beer. We should get to know each other_? He's not proud of it but questions start arising.

“Sexy pic with the lobster,” Nursey repeats. It had been, honestly, in a kind of weird display-of-masculinity way that Nursey doesn’t want to unpack right then but definitely would with some weed.

“Thank you?” says Will. A pause. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No,” Nursey replies honestly. But that feels like some kind of defeat, because this guy is cute and freckly and like, certainly has hands, but he also just dismissed Nursey’s careful construction of self while Nursey watched, so he continues, “I mean, I’m a vegetarian? So I kind of do disagree with the concept of trapping and killing an innocent animal for your own consumption, or whatever.”

Will snorts. “Of course.”

Nursey’s stomach sinks. He should’ve known. Pretty eyes or not, it wasn’t going to be fun with a guy who is a self-proclaimed hockey and good beer fan. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” says Will.

Nursey doesn’t want to get into a full-blown argument in the middle of an airport, so he lets it drop. But he also doesn’t want to sit here in awkward silence or have to get up and haul all his shit over to somewhere else. “So, while we're both sitting here, any pointers for improvement?” he asks instead.

“What?”

“For my profile, dude. Gotta up my game, clearly.”

"Why?"

"Self-improvement is my new year's resolution," Nursey replies easily, only half-lying; it's been his new year's resolution for like, five years straight, whatever. "I'll start: you need a better bio, or just scrap the whole thing. You're just about cute enough to pull it off, but it does you zero favours, dude. Bland as fuck."

Will goes pale, then red, then says, "What the fuck? Who asked?" Nursey waits, unsure if he should keep pushing or if he's maybe crossed a line, and after a long moment or two Will sighs. “Okay, fine, I hate doing description things and I'm shit at it. But yours also sucks. You could try with less of the pretentious quote shit, for one thing.”

“Less Mary Szybist?” Nursey asks, only having to up his aghastness a little. “Mine does not suck. I’m trying to convey an inner sensitivity, bro. Poetry is a window to the soul.”

Will frowns. “I thought that was eyes.”

His frown is cute. Shit. “First, a little thing called poetic license? Second, you said _I_ was pretentious.”

“It’s Shakespeare,” Will says, unimpressed. “You didn’t do Shakespeare in high school?”

“Sure,” Nursey agrees, “but clearly it didn’t stick,” which is a lie. “Haiku, though. That’s the good shit.”

“What?”

“In my bio. It’s a haiku, five-seven-five syllables?”

Will visibly goes through Nursey’s bio, mouthing out the words, which, hey. It left an impression, at least. “That’s not five-seven-five,” he says.

“I’m pretty and my / meat is huge. Chill vibez only / no haters. Peace sign,” Nursey recites easily, clapping the syllables out like they taught in elementary school.

Will snorts out a laugh and can’t quite seem to reign his face back into looking unimpressed. Nursey smiles back and can’t quite reign that in either. The bitterness from watching Will swipe past him seeps almost entirely away at last, Nursey finally able to unfold his arm from around his stomach; Will’s shoulders come down from around his ears, too.

“Um. I did actually like your photos,” he says after a moment, almost hesitant, those same ears flaming. “Like, a lot."

"Ditto," says Nursey, as casual as he can. Will is pretty great in pics, if unfortunately blind to his angles, and even better plus assholeish irl, which is a beauty of a combination.

"But you’re cheating your syllables with that peace sign bit, pretty sure,” Will adds.

Nursey rolls his eyes, ignores the warm glow. Not a straight, definitely. And Will thinks his pics are good, at least, which is a success of sorts. He doesn't know what flight Will is getting, but his own back to NYC has been delayed by a few hours, so maybe he should try and shoot his shot one last time.

He chucks his stuff over to Will's side of the chair-row, then hauls himself over. Pulls his sweater back down. Fuck this twisting around in his seat nonsense. 

Will blinks, face pink. "Hi," he says, a little hoarse.

“I think you mean bye. I said no haters, didn't I?”

Will laughs again, full and warm this time. “Fuck off, asshole,” he says, and this time Nursey laughs with him.


End file.
